


a false sense of freedom

by fr0g_16



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Acceptance, Bisexuality, Bittersweet, Character Development, Coming of Age, Crime, Death, Death Threats, F/F, Falling In Love, Freedom, Gambling, Gang Violence, Gay, Gun Violence, Hope, Hurt/Comfort, I'm Bad At Tagging, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Insecurity, Inspired By Banana Fish, Lesbian Character, Lies, Love, Murder, Mutual Pining, New York City, Panic Attacks, Pressure, Prostitution, Racism, Recreational Drug Use, Snow, Strippers & Strip Clubs, Violence, basically me venting, but also kinda happy if you think about it, false freedom, fuck the government, homophobic, i listened to the song “freaks” by surf curse a lot when writing, kinda sad ending, maybe aspects of insanity, non-binary
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-21
Updated: 2021-02-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 05:27:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28219941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fr0g_16/pseuds/fr0g_16
Summary: is this what freedom felt like, the cleans of fresh air swaying my hair the smell of the county roads and the drying blood on my hands. this was freedom this was my freedom. The ever long despair was soon to be considered prosperity and wealth. With the fresh smell of blood and integrity in the atmosphere I drove along, away from the troubles of the past.I was to longer be held back by the grouse truths of the cruel city. I need not remember them yet the growing pit in my stomach was increasing by the minute. for no reason other than the anxiety, they were gone now I was free from the flesh hold. Yet it all felt wrong yet so right. the indescribable truth was so be hidden, buried deep into the ground for all eternity. For my concern, I need no longer fret, my only bother was now the concern of my car breaking down along this country road where the air smelt fresher and the sun shown brighter. I was free. This is what freedom feels like. --- i have also posted this on Wattpad under @frOg_16
Relationships: Original Character(s) & Original Character(s), Original Character(s)/Original Character(s)





	1. introduction

**"We know the road to freedom had always been stalked by death"~Angela Davis.**

Like something out of a horror movie, heavy wheels scratched and scraped along the derelict roads trying to avoid the upcoming blizzard of snow. The month was December, and we were always prone to snow no matter what the forecast would tell us.

Some things never change, and the fear of a blizzard was one of them. Despite the yearly snowstorm's houses were still built to close to the ground and were kept unheated and unsupported by the local governments, but these were a thing the people got used to. Nothing better would happen the government didn't care about the poor, that was made extremely clear when anti-homeless laws were put in place banning people from sleeping on the streets.

~~

Heavy smoke fulfilled my lungs as is stood upright against the cold New York lamppost. Inhale, exhale. The only thing I could rely on to be regular and non-abnormal. This is what my life has come to. Poor. Alone. Abused. Words and descriptions I was way too familiar with.

Inhale exhale the smooth smoke passed through my thin lips and nose dancing off into the distance of the cold New York air. Only if I were as free and as innocent as the beautiful exhale of grey smoke, only if I were able to fly, to be free of the capturing city weighting my every step-down. The land of the free. Yeah right. The statement exclusively created to support the rich white men of society who abuse and control the city like a doll on strings.

I was far from free and I craved nothing more than the sweet relief of death, only then would I escape the high expectations of society. The only way I would be happy would be the end unless the highly improbable idyllic society was created. Another thing that was to never be changed was the injustices of the city. Something that co-exists in all form of society. Something not needed but always present and the people who disagree were either too privileged to realise or was just not looking close enough


	2. chapter one

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a pupet on a string

_**We are all puppets of the administrations** _

The cold Metallic gun pressed and dug into my flawless skin on the round of my back. Despite the legalization of firearms, I made sure it was kept hidden, tucked away in the band of my trousers for only me and the sharp eye to notice. “good evening mam” a gruff voice spoke out into the darkness of the night “make sure you are staying safe out here it’s a tuff old world out there especially during the nights in a big city like this”

Gary. I knew that voice anywhere he had made a few dealings with my farther a few summers ago and tried to cause trouble with his girls. the escorts. “don’t worry Gary you know I know these streets better than anyone.”

trust me I knew the horrors of the city when the sun went down, and the hollow moon arose. I had been working with my dad for long enough to not look over the simplistic of things and to be always alert and aware. I had known Gary had been walking along the street for 10 minutes. He wasn't a threat to me. I knew if we to try anything he would soon be dead and at the bottom of Hudson river.

My farther prestige crime boss of New York, highly respectable and untouchable. He was king of the underground and mastered in gun trafficking and high-level prostitution. I would say he was feared but I didn’t want to Undermine him. He had the government wrapped around his fat fingers. I hate the bastard. crime loving prick who was willing to kill and hate his way to the top. I don’t want to and probably can't begin to imagine the things he has done to archive such a high-level ranking.

I despise him, his gang, and this whole city. I wish I could burn it to the ground and purify it of its crimes. Crackles and flames would arise from the ground of the city in all its glory and beauty consuming the atmosphere with ever second. I could only dream for now the glow of my cigarette was enough. The flames would consume my soul and dance away into the distance. Forgotten and untouched by the grouse truths of the city.

“I hate this fucking city and everyone that lives here. I hope my life will become something more than the mafia and the government's puppet. But what can I say were all puppets to the government no matter how hard we try”

“Donavan get inside now you'll freeze to death if you wallow out there any longer’ my pig of a farther grovelled.

Leaning on the lamppost, I was outside one of his most famous strips clubbed. he would say that only the best of the best worked here. I disagree. They all looked the same. On the brink of death and or starvation. The beauty standard he withheld would kill them. I felt bad for them. I was them. were all the same. Slowly dying. It was inevitable, my farther however always knew a way to speed up the process.


	3. chapter two

_**"I hate the world and almost everybody in it"** _

Rolling my eyes with a small huff of annoyance I put out my now significantly shorted cigarette on my coat, they always seemed to be impossible to finish nowadays days. I'm not sure if that was the universe giving me a sign or just pure dumb luck.

Yet another black timeless hole was beginning to emerge on my tacky jacket, I pay no mind to them anymore they were part of me. They reminded me I was nothing more, nothing more to the world just another "damaged person". I hate that term. I'm not fucking damaged, there is no such thing as a damaged person, we are not your property no matter how hard you try. 

Remembering my farthest yelling I huffed again he sounded annoyed, more so than usual. Two things could've happened. Early that evening my father, Sir Donovan had sent his finest men on a pickup, they were expecting assault rifles and a few handguns. The usual order. However, with it being so close to Christmas police security has risen. Most probably the dealing had gone bust. I haven't heard anything on the news yet, my father's men being arrested that is. In all honestly, I couldn't care what happened to them. I knew I mustn't say that about my supposed family, but how could I not, pure scum of the universe. 

the second was more probable considering the deathly silence the streets had been plummeted in. it felt as though a black hole had found itself above the city demolishing it of all humanity. it was always rather quiet at night, which was strange considering I lived in New York. maybe I had just gotten used to it over time.

the second reason for my father's anger was more likely going to be about "his girls". The stripers and escorts. He would say they were always trying to cause a ruckus but in reality, they were sick of his abuse and mental wight he forced them under. Their diet was constricting, and their free time was next to nothing. I always respected them though I can't begin to imagine the amount of talent they have. Every night they get up and perform for these lowlifes without a second thought. That had to be mentally draining, and for that, I respected them not only as people but for their sheer talent.

"I'm coming father" I called. the last thing I wanted to do was aggravate him more than he already seemed to be. 

pushing the steel doors to the back entrance of the club I walked in. Red walls with gold over and under hangs filled my vision. The more you focused on them the tackier they became. A stereotypical brother if you asked me. Tacky black and grey carpets accompanied the red and gold walls, even more, adding to the idea of tackiness. Maybe it was my biased opinion, but the place sucked. It Wreaked of scum and depression.

The atmosphere felt damp and moist. It was as though someone had captured you in a wet blanket forcing you into insanity. This place was able to change the strongest of men. They walked in brave and cold and left traumatized beyond recognition.

A few framed photos were also placed upon the walls. despite the tasteless overview, the art was phenomenal. gorgeous women were displayed in each painting. they were lined up to the precise edges of the walls going down the entirety of the corridor. These paintings had always stood out to me as a child. They always seemed so out of place for an establishment like this. despite my father being the worst human possible, he did have astonishing taste in artwork and fashion. 

As I walked further and further down the corridor the more my mind flooded with anxiety. You would be stupid if you weren't scared right now. He may be my father, but he treats me like his men. He treats me the way he treats the ants on the floor. As if I were noting.


End file.
